


Be Mine Forever

by greyassassin24



Series: Prompted Stories [27]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Comedy of Errors, F/F, F/M, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Murder, Protectiveness, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 04:04:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4862408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyassassin24/pseuds/greyassassin24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merrill is crazy for Hawke... literally. When the world's darkness attempts to take her Hawke from her, she will jealously protect the noblewoman. But where does protecting cross the line in to something much darker?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Mine Forever

_Author's Note: Was written for my buddy, Arzir, who prompted me with Yandere Merrill in a relationship with Hawke. While I couldn't bring myself to write straight up crazy Merrill killing out of jealousy, I did go with the angle of her jealously protecting her lover, and where she crosses the line into something darker._

 

_If you want to prompt me with anything, please feel free to leave a review, send me a PM, or search for greyassassin24 on Tumblr and click on the prompts tab._

 

* * *

 

"Adrianne, sweetheart, come downstairs!"

 

Hawke sighed at her mother's call, releasing her beloved Merrill from her arms, who gave a sad, lonely whimper at the loss of contact. They had spent the last hour cuddling on their bed, wrapped in one another's embrace, the problems of the world outside lost to them.

 

“Be back in a minute, sweetie.” Hawke smiled at her Dalish lover with those dazzling, _beautiful_ eyes that she had. _That alluring body, her sweet smile, the love with which she speaks to me like no one ever has…_

 

Merrill smiled sweetly back, pulling a blanket over herself. “Be back soon, Ma Vhenan. I have something I want to show you. Something  _dirty_ .”

 

Hawke giggled. “I'll hurry back.” And with that, she hurried off, ensuring that she pulled her dress up enough to be decent for her mother with whatever she needed.

 

In the living room was her mother, fussing over some dress that she held in her hands. Hawke sighed, her relationship with her mother being… strained, at best. Leandra had never accepted many things about Hawke. It had taken her almost two decades to recognize the fact that Hawke had been born a man but was a woman inside, that her little Aidan was actually an Adrianne. Even after that, she had never accepted that her newfound daughter was exclusively attracted to women, and that she had fallen in love with one of those savage little elves.

 

“So what is it now, mom?” asked Hawke.

 

“What do you think of this dress?” She asked innocently, holding it up. It was one of those excessively fancy dresses that she bought so often, made of fine furs and silks, laces like black spider silk covering the top of it above the breastline.

 

“It's very pretty.” Hawke admitted. “But did you just want me to see it?”

 

“Of course not.” Leandra scoffed. “Put it on. You're going out to dinner.”

 

“Dinner?” Hawke raised an eyebrow suspiciously. That was exactly what her euphemism had been previously when she had set her up on dates. Before she fell for Merrill. “What do you mean by _dinner_?”

 

“I know you've hated all of the boys I've set you up with,” She smiled sweetly. “But I found one that I think you'll just _adore_.”

 

“ **What?!** ” cried Hawke. “You set me up on a date, again? When the girl of my dreams is sitting upstairs, waiting patiently for me to come back to bed? What the hell?!”

 

“Now, now.” Leandra chastised. “Darling, I will not have any of that type of language in my house.”

 

“ _Your_ house?” cried Hawke. “Mother, I paid for this place with my own blood and sweat! And I'm not going on any sort of a date with anyone but Merrill! Especially not any men!”

 

Leandra sighed, feeling sick at her daughter's infatuation with women. Such an unholy thing that was, strictly forbidden by the Chant of Light. If only her little girl would follow her to the Chantry every once and a while so she could see what ill this would bring on her. Why, if she wanted to have affairs with girls, why did she choose to become a woman?

 

“Please?” Leandra asked with pitiful eyes that she knew her daughter couldn't resist. “If not for me, what of the sweet young boy I told you would come for?”

 

“Oh for the love of...” Hawke hissed, taking the dress. “Fine. I'm going to go and tell him that there's been a mistake, then I'm going to come straight home. There will be _nothing_ between us. Tomorrow morning, you and I are going to have a very, very long talk.” She slung her over her arm. “I swear to Mythal, if he tries to touch me...”

 

“Adrianne!” Leandra shrieked at her daughter swearing to another god. Another of those heathen gods of those Dalish savages, no doubt. This was much of why she wanted Hawke to leave that elf girl: she was assuredly spoiling her daughter’s soul.

 

“I'm going, _mother_.” She hissed the last word. “Where is this date of… mine... going to be?”

 

“At _La Refuge_ , that fancy Orlesian restaurant just down the square.”

 

“Fuck.” She swore as she stepped up the stairs. She hated _La Refuge_ , they served the worst 'gourmet' food imaginable. whatever, it wasn't like it mattered: she would go there, tell whoever it was that there had been a mistake, and come back for a bath with her beloved.

 

A s she entered the room, she found Merrill standing in front of the bed in a breathtaking sight. There were candles lit across the room in a romantic lighting, and she was wearing the absolutely gorgeous corset that drove Hawke so absolutely wild.

 

“I hope you're done for the night.” Merrill murmured in a low, husky voice. “Because I have plans for you.”

 

“Oh, my love.” Hawke whispered, forgetting herself for a moment before remembering. “W-wait, sweetheart. There's something I have to tell you.”

 

“Can it wait until after?” Merrill purred, strutting forward in that irresistible way that Isabela had taught her. “I have plans for you, my heart. Dirty, dirty plans.”

 

“No.” She held up a hand and Merrill stopped where she stood. “No, it can't. Sweetie, I… mother had just told me some awful news.”

 

Merrill's sultry expression fell, fading into one of worry. “Ma Vhenan… you're shaking.” She rushed to Hawke side, taking her lover in her arms. “What is it? What's happened?”

 

“Merrill,” Hawke sobbed, clinging to her elf. “I… I love you, so much. Mother has… set me up on a date with some boy!”

 

“What?!” Merrill cried. “Why? Did you ask her to?”

 

“Of course not!” shrieked Hawke. “Merrill, I love you with all of my heart! I… you know how much she hates the idea of us being together. Don't you worry, I'm going to make sure that she doesn't do it again, but I...” She bit back her tears and shook her head. “I have to go down there to call it off with whoever it is. I'm so sorry.”

 

“Do you have to?” Merrill whimpered, feeling as though Hawke was turning her down for their nightly love making session, even though she could feel the sadness in her tone.

 

“Yes,” Hawke sighed, seriously tempted to just grab her elven lover and forget about all of their troubles. Perhaps even loud enough that mother could hear them going at it…

 

But no. She had a duty to do towards this unfortunate soul mother had tried to whore her out to, a duty to find him and tell him what had happened.

 

“I'll be back in a minute, sweetheart.” Hawke promised. “It's just down the street, so I should just be a minute.” She clasped Merrill's hands in her own, touching their foreheads together. “I love you so much, darling.”

 

“I love you too, Ma Vhenan.” Merrill held her lover closely, tears gathering at the edge of her eyes at the mere thought of her Hawke having… relations with anyone else, ripping at her heart's cords. Even though she knew that Hawke would always be faithful, her heart still ached at the notion. “Hurry back, my sun and stars. I want to show you how much I love you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Hawke quickly pulled on that ridiculous dress mother had given her and headed down the street to that awful restaurant, feeling dirty and awful going out on a date that didn't involve Merrill.

 

_It's not a date._ She reminded herself.  _Just a misunderstanding. You're just going to go in there and tell whoever's waiting for you that._

 

With a great and heaving sigh, she threw open the doors to find whoever was inside. She found only a single table with only one figure at it.

 

“Anders?” She asked in disbelief, and the rebel mage, dressed nicely for once in a clean velvet vest with puffed out sleeves. Admittedly, it was nice to see him out of that old, ragged coat and in something that didn't look like it had been dragged through the Deep Roads, but she knew what it meant.

 

“Hawke!” He smiled for what must have been the first time in the last six years. “I was starting to think you wouldn't come.”

 

_Shite._ Hawke thought.  _ This complicates things. Now I can't just blow him off. If it were just another of those nobles that I would love to never see again, it's be easy. _

 

“Hey.” She said weakly, sitting across from him. “I did _not_ expect to see you here. W-what are you doing here?”

 

“What do you mean?” Anders raised a confused eyebrow, quirking his head. “You sent me a letter, asking if I wanted to come out on a date with you. Said you were sick of Merrill.”

 

“Oh, you bitch.” Hawke muttered under her breath before looking up and meeting his eyes. “Look, Anders: there's been a… misunderstanding, and I am _so_ sorry. I… didn't send that, but… I'll stay for dinners, I guess.” That hadn't been the plan, but it was the best she could figure to mend things between friends.

 

“You didn't send that?” Anders asked, utterly confused, feeling dreams towards her being dashed in a moment after being raised so high. “It had the Hawke seal on it, I'm sure. If not you, then... who did?”

 

Hawke sighed, sitting further back in her chair. “Just… mother interfering in my personal life. Once again.” She rubbed her eyes in exasperation. “Look, let's… just enjoy the evening, okay?”

 

The dinner was utterly awful.  _ La Refuge _ was the kind of restaurant that didn't bother to make the animals that they turned into dinner look anything less like animals. They may as well have simply killed a deer and thrown it on the table, telling them to enjoy. The only pleasant thing about it was the wine, which Hawke had more of than the meal itself. She was going to need much of it to get through this meal.

 

A nd the food was nothing compared to Anders' none to o subtle attempts at flirting.  She kept her eyes focused on the food that stared back at her, preferring to see those begging eyes of the dead to those boring into the top of her head from the revolutionist.

 

After an eternity, it was over. Finally. She declined any sort of desert, dreading whatever this place would offer. Anders walked her home, reasoning that Darktown was equally far away no matter where in Kirkwall you were. Hawke reluctantly agreed, but did not take the offered arm, instead walking side by side. It was raining outside, and her new dress was dragged down in the mud, ruined and torn,  the rain ruining the makeup that she had put on for Merrill, washing down her face.

 

“Hawke.” Anders said as they arrived. “Listen. Since… apparently it wasn't you who invited me, I have to ask: are you and Merrill still together?”

 

“Yes.” said Hawke, folding her arms adamantly. “I love her.”

 

“Oh.” He said. “Well, look. I have… something to say. Something you probably don't want to hear. She… acts sweet, but I-”

 

“Anders.” Hawke cut off, long seated irritation returning at his argument against her relationship with Merrill. “I'm going to stop you right there. There is no act, she _is_ sweet, and she loves me with all of her heart.” He was right: she didn't want to hear it. “And I'm not going to take any sort of a lecture from _you_ , of all people.”

 

“Justice is a spirit.” Anders hissed. “And you are a fool if you believe that girl's virginal smile! She'll only betray you! That's all that her kind can do!” As he spoke, he grabbed at her, and Hawke tried to struggle away, but his hand found the front of her dress.

 

“Anders!” Hawke shrieked. “Let go of me!” She felt vulnerable and violated as he grabbed at her breast, albeit she believed to be unintentional.

 

“No!” He cried. “Not until you listen to reason!”

 

Hawke twisted out of his grasp, and as she did so, her dress and smallclothes were torn, exposing her breast.  She screamed at the top of her lungs and punched him across the face and into the mud. Then she went crying into her estate, slamming the door behind her, hands covering her chest.

 

“Adrianne?” Leandra asked as she ran into the halls, makeup running, dress torn and covered in mud. “What are you doing home so ear-”

 

“ **Shut up!** ” Hawke shrieked, crying. “ **Damnit, this was the single worst night of my life! Go away!** ”

 

She stormed, sobbing into her room, where Merrill still waiting, wearing that corset still. Hawke practically tackled her, burying her head into the hollow of the elf's shoulder, howling and shrieking in pain and sadness.

 

“Ma Vhenan?” She asked softly. “What's wrong?” Merrill took her human in her arms, laying down with Hawke laid comfortingly on her breast, rubbing a circle over her back.

 

“Oh, Merrill!” Hawke sobbed. “It was horrible! The… the man I met was… was Anders!”

 

“He was?!” Merrill exclaimed, eyes widening.

 

“He… he tried to… to hurt me.” She cried, grasping at her torn dress. “It was so awful!”

 

“He… he did?” Merrill cried out, misinterpreting Hawke's words. She thought he had tried to force himself on her beloved. The words shocked and horrified her, dropping her jaw as a pit in her stomach opened. She looked at Hawke, ready to ask what had happened, hoping, praying that she was wrong.

 

But then she saw the tear in her beloved Hawke's dress, and a bruised shaped like a hand over it. She had seen elven women in the Alienage be raped before, and that was the telltale sign. In a moment, images flooded her mind of the mage, with his glowing blue eyes of Vengeance, grabbing her Hawke's breasts as the noble screamed for help, one hand grabbing at his crotch while the other tore at her Hawke's dress before she fought him off, running home.

 

Her mouth ran dry, tears biting at the edge of her eyes while Hawke sobbed into her neck. “Ma Vhenan.” She whispered. “That is… awful. Monstrous. How could he do that?!”

 

“Oh, Merrill.” Hawke nodded, crying. “I remember now why I don't date men.”

 

“Hush, Ma Vhenan.” Merrill murmured in a soft, warm voice, trying desperately to comfort Hawke. “It's alright Ma Arasha, my happiness. I'm here. There's nothing else in the world right now. Just you, and me. Me, and you.”

 

Merrill held Hawke for hours, grasping tightly at her lover until the tears no longer came. Hawke drifted into an exhausted sleep after that, arms still wrapped around the tiny Dalish elf.

 

As she ensured Hawke was asleep, Merrill gently lifted her noble off, taking off that awful dress that she somehow still managed to make looked beautiful, and tucking her beloved in tightly, whispering a prayer to the Creators for her to have a dreamless sleep.

 

Then she went to their wardrobe, opening it to find that ivory white armour Hawke had ordered specifically for her. Hawke had smiled and said that her little angel needed shining white to match.

 

And now Hawke's guardian angel had to protect.

 

With Vir Tasallan and the  Arulin'Holm  in  hand , she set off for Darktown.

 

He would not hurt Hawke again.

 

* * *

 

 

She slipped through the basements of the estate, and found the exit that was right next to Anders' clinic, clutching her staff. Outside, the lanterns were alight, signalling that he was inside. With a deep, shuttering breath, Merrill opened the doors.

 

Inside sat the rebel mage at a chair, sulking with his arms crossed. He was ragged, with sullen eye that looked away and a closed off body language. The fact that he still had his clinic open in this state, was a testament to him, but Merrill knew that, if he had hurt Hawke, that he had gone much too far.

 

“Anders.”

 

He looked up, surprised. In front of him was the tiny Dalish girl who was ruining the life of his only friend in the whole of the world. With the darkness behind her and the ivory armour shining in the darkness, she looked like a collector from the heavens sent for him.

 

“Merrill.” He stood, his chair sliding out painfully from behind him. “What are you doing here?” He glanced behind him, where his staff lay a good ten feet away.

 

“You hurt Hawke.” She hissed, stepping forward, a fist clenching in the gauntlet of her armour. What she was about to do sickened her to the core, made her woozy and lightheaded, but she was determined to ensure that he didn't ever force himself on her lover ever again.

 

“Like you haven't.” He spat, stepping towards her in kind. “Like you aren't the worst thing to ever happen to her. She was a fool to let you move in, and you _will_ stay away from her if you actually care about her. ”

 

“Like you have any room to talk about her that way after what you did tonight! You will never touch her again!” She screamed stepping forward and clutching her staff, breathing hard and steadying herself. “Ar'din nuvenin na'din...” She hissed. “Ur ara.” 

 

Then she lunged forward. He ducked under the swing of her staff, as she had expected, but brought the elven knife to bare, plunging it into his chest. His eyes widened and he stepped back, blood spurting from his lower lip as she ripped it back into her grasp. After so many years of protecting others and stopping those who would hurt her beloved, she knew how to make it hurt. Just like how Mahariel  how showed her to put down any animal who needed to be killed: Quickly and painlessly, so that their final moments before they found the love of the Creators were not torture.

 

Anders lashed out with a bolt of lightning, albeit greatly diminished for lack of his staff. She easily knocked the spell aside with her own magic, the  Arulin'Holm twisting in her hand just enough to cut her palm. With it's power, she lashed out in a spear of icy blood so cold that it burned when it touched, sending the renegade mage  sprawling, catching himself on his knees at the last moment.

 

Before she could end the poor man's suffering, he tried to run for his staff. With a flare of power, she brought up powerful vines from the dirt floor beneath, ensnaring him and pulling back to the ground and onto his knees.

 

With that, she tossed her staff aside and grabbed him from behind like any dangerous animal. Then she drove her knife forward, cutting his throat. He grasped at his throat with his only free arm, gasping for air.

 

“Ir Abelas.” She whispered through bitter tears. “Ir Abelas.”

 

She brought her knife forward to end his suffering. Her hands were shaking as she did it, but she thought of him sexually assaulting her Hawke again, about what could possibly happen if he tried again, about him succeeding…

 

Thoughts of her lover being raped steadied her hands.

 

* * *

 

 

_Translation for Elvish:_

_Ma Asha: My Happiness._

_Ar'din nuvenin na'din...Ur ara: I don't want to kill you... but I will._

_Ir Abelas: I'm sorry._


End file.
